COACH 10 SEAT 12
COACH 10 SEAT 12
Iron steel rails straight
as can be,
stretching from here to eternity.
Full harvest moon
hanging over head,
bony fingered trees
beckon to me,
the smell of coal tar and oil
adds to the eeriness of it all,
cold sweat
running down my neck,
False hope
calling me. ..turn around,…
turn around.
The tales are true
I’ve even heard the
train a time or two,
rumbling hard,
coming through the fog,
bright light
searching the night,
trying to behold
a lost soul or two.
odd….as fear
strikes and terror dismays,
standing frozen
in time
as I fade away,
and from afar
comes the conductor call.
“TICKET PLEASE “
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